


And I Shall Rock Thee To My Heart

by Porcupine19



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, F/M, Hanukkah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porcupine19/pseuds/Porcupine19
Summary: A couple of years after the conclusion of Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald.In London, Porpentina Goldstein should be celebrating. It is Christmas, after all, and she is surrounded by warmth and family and love. And Newt Scamander still can't believe his luck- having the love of this woman is the most precious gift he could hope for. But everyone knows that something is missing.Miles away, Queenie is watching the snow fall on the Austrian mountains, mourning what has been lost, holding on to what she still has, and showering all the love she can on the young man her sister gave up so much for. She thinks of him, too- the reason that she's doing all this- and wonders if he thinks of her.He does. Of course he does. She is all he ever thinks about.Even now.





	And I Shall Rock Thee To My Heart

She woke slowly, her eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light of the winter morning, still pleasantly heavy with sleep. That brief moment, somewhere between sleep and waking, where the world seems to be in peaceful silence like a still, calm lake where no breeze or stone can trouble the mirror-like surface. But it never lasted long. 

Yes, there it was again. It didn't hurt as much as before, those mornings waking either from oblivion or nightmares, where the memories had pierced her like a knife and made her crumple, sobbing. Now, three years after that night, the stabbing agony had faded to a dull ache. It was like walking around with a large stone in her bag: she could cope now, just about, but she could never forget.

There was, there would never be a cure for this. All she could do, day by day, was cling on to any palliative she could find. 

A stirring beside her- then, in spite of herself, she smiled as she felt the gentle tickle of a weather-beaten finger, tentatively stroking her hair. Then, a voice:

"Tina... are you awake?"

Of course, some painkillers were stronger than others. And some, she took for themselves, and not because they made her forget. She would have held on to him even if things had been different; she wanted him with her always, through good and bad, thick and thin, life and death. She turned onto her left-hand side, a smile blossoming on her face without effort, but coming nowhere near concealing the sadness it had interrupted. But that was ok. Here, with him, she didn't have to pretend. They both leaned in at the same time, and she placed a gentle kiss on his chapped lips as his hand moved to caress her cheek. Then his arms opened to her, warm, inviting, and she let herself burrow into the gentle warmth of him, feeling the warm firmness of his kiss on the top of her head.

"Mornin'..." She wriggled into him a little more, not wanting to get up- not just yet. "Merry Christmas."

Yes, it would be. She was resolved on that. It would never stop hurting, the chasm left by the people they had lost. But she wouldn't let herself fall in, not again. It was Christmas, and just like she had at Hanukkah, she was going to celebrate and hold on to everything she still had to be thankful for. The family they had made, not the family that had gone. And whatever happened, whatever else was taken, she would never stop being thankful for the man who was wrapping his thin arms still more tightly around her.

"Merry Christmas, Porpentina Goldstein." She smiled again at the sound of her full name- she would have smacked anyone else for using it, but spoken with Newt's voice it actually sounded vaguely bearable- nice, even. Still, she preferred Tee, which was what he and steadily the rest of their closest friends had taken to calling her. And yet-

_No. Not now. Stop it._

But the echoes came anyway, of the one thing that no-one called her now.

_"Teenie, wake up!"_

_"Teen, put that down and come eat somethin'..."_

_"Merry Christmas, Teenie."_

She clenched her fist on the bedsheets, trying to push down the lump in her throat, and with it the memories. Queenie spinning dreamily around the kitchen, singing  _"We wish you a merry Christmas"_. Queenie always, without fail, slipping some pink Fizzing Whizzbees into her stocking and trying- but always failing- not to listen to Tina's thoughts and find out what her present would be. Queenie making a sumptuous Christmas dinner for two out of the little ingredients they could afford.

She pushed them all down, tried to lock them away in the back of her mind. She wouldn't think of Queenie. She mustn't think of Queenie. Not of Credence, either. 

Especially not of how badly she wished they were here.

**********************************************

 On Christmas morning, the sunlight drifted across her face like a veil as its pale glow dreamily lit the vast mountains, beautiful when in the black of night they had looked so stern and unfriendly. Queenie Goldstein eased herself out of bed, yawning and trying to ignore the funny ache in her chest... something almost like sadness... Pushing it away, she opened the curtains with a wave of her hand- she didn't need a wand for simple spells any more- and stretched luxuriantly, basking in the cool light that flooded in through the vast, crystalline windows.

She was probably just tired, that was all. And her head still felt a bit funny from the drinks last night. It was the most beautiful time of year, after all, the one that meant Hanukkah, and snow, and Christmas markets like the one she'd wandered through last week in Prague (Vinda had taken her there for an errand, to make sure that a business partner had no dishonest intentions)- and Christmas itself, obviously. Besides, at any time of year she had everything she needed- and friends. Yes, she was lucky to have so many friends here, so much protection. What was there to be sad about?

As she stood gazing at the magnificent snow-blanketed vista below her window- the mountains looked so lovely, all topped with white underneath the baby-blue sky- she was pulled away from her reverie by a very different feeling that wasn't her own. It was as if music was being played at the other end of the corridor, the thoughts of the next room's occupant drifting in like snatches of lyrics and faint echoes of melody. A little guilt, but a bucketful of quiet yet intense happiness. She beamed as she caught the fragments of his thoughts that could be shaped into words. It wasn't the sudden rush of almost painful emotion he'd given off the first Christmas- when her contribution had been unexpected- that had made her rush next door in a panic before she realised nothing was wrong. It didn't need to be. He was happy; that was enough.

There. She was only separated by a wall from a boy who'd become like family to her, and he was happy- and so much happier most days than he'd been two years ago- and today was going to be just lovely. She could feel it. She slipped into her obediently opened dressing gown, and almost skipped to her door. A few light steps, squealing a little as the freezing stone touched her bare feet, brought her to the door of his room.

She and Aurelius- she'd finally got used to using his true name, now that he was comfortable using it himself- kinda had their own little apartment here, up in the towers in the south of Nurmengard. It was in part a recognition of their status- of his care and value for them both- but she sensed, too, that Grindelwald had known they would be more comfortable with some privacy. The rest of his inner circle had earned the right to their own quarters, too, but those were several corridors and a couple of floors away. Aurelius was secluded from the crowds and noise he still disliked, and the others' intimidating presence, but with her so close he was never alone. She, meanwhile, could easily block out the incessant buzz of thoughts and feelings from the recruits downstairs- mostly young and less experienced; more arrived every month- but she was never in complete silence.

He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a brightly coloured stocking by his side, its contents set out neatly on top of the bedclothes. A bag of Fizzing Whizzbees, a pair of thick socks she'd knitted herself, some of her cookies (unanimously praised by everyone here) and a leather-bound notebook with a new quill and a bottle of colour-change ink. He was now turning something else over and over in his pale, scarred hands- although the scars had faded so much now, they were barely visible. It was a wooden dreidel made of light, marbled wood, the Hebrew letters for "a great miracle happened there" neatly painted on the sides. A brightly coloured, almost childlike design of the Old City of Jerusalem decorated its lower half, so that the letters seemed to float above it like four bold, regal suns. His smile as he turned his head towards her was small, but even without reading his mind, she could see the quiet happiness that lit up his eyes, all the more precious when most people wouldn't have noticed it. She joined him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him; he leaned into the hug easily and gladly, his arms reaching to embrace her in turn. His left fist caught and tightly held the soft, thick fabric of her dressing gown, and Queenie remembered: it was the left hand that that woman had scarred the most. She did not try to break the hug but remained as she was: warm, stable, always there, letting him hold on to her for as long as he needed, until he was ready for her to let go. As soon as she sensed that he was, she let them ease apart. 

Still carefully holding onto her hand, a whispered "Thank you" passed from his lips. Trying not to cry from the mix of pleasure and guilt swirling around in his mind, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "That's ok, honey. You sleep alright?" He nodded, still holding the dreidel as though it were a priceless jewel.  

"I thought you'd like that. I bought it off this lovely old No-Maj lady, in the Jewish Quarter in Prague... it's too bad I didn't get it in time for Hanukkah, but you can hold onto it for next year, right? And we can play a couple rounds later, if you'd like that."

He nodded. Yes, he'd like that a lot.

"Merry Christmas."

She pulled him into another hug, with an extra squeeze at the end. "And a Happy New Year, sweetheart."

Happy. Yes. Yes, it would be happy. How could a girl be in her place and not be happy? 

But it was no use. However much she tried, she couldn't stop it. Their faces stayed imprinted on her consciousness like burrs sticking to your coat. The people she had abandoned, the ones she had left behind. Tina, with her big solemn eyes and her bossy voice. Tina, who had all but raised her. Her sister, who if they ever met again, would be her enemy on the battlefield.

And Jacob...

Oh, Jacob...

 _I'm doing this for him_ , she told herself, keeping her face turned away from Aurelius to hide the tear sliding down her cheek.  _I'm doing this for us. When we've won, he'll understand. When we're free. It's gonna be alright._

She felt Aurelius' gentle touch on her hand again and took his, gratefully. This at least she could do for Tina- take care of the once-broken, still-hurting boy the Auror had tried so hard to care for. And she wondered, as she raised a shaking hand to wipe the tears away,  _so why do I feel so sad? And why..._

_Why am I afraid?_


End file.
